My Great Father and Mentor picked pieces of me off the Autumn Laden streets of Manhattan at the turn of the Millenium, and with unconditional love, he sewed and stitched endlessly till I reached a dynamic relative measure of perfection.
I am now a Porcelain Doll named Lockheed HayHeeHoo Macedon with potent insight on macroeconomics.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Oh what petty justice after being stood up by a lass...

After two quick shots of Jaegermeister in my dismay over being stood up, a drunken man of considerable height over me, decided to play the dangerous game with Lockheed, on W72nd and Broadway... Now realize: I am a Moral at War, and I protect whatever assets I have left, and proactively avoid any sign of extra debt, as I bounce to and fro, gracefully and in stability, readied in my learned boxer's stance. I ask the man, 'Are you ready?' As I draw my fists upwards, elbows tucked in close. 'Are you ready to learn how to trade?' By this I mean, 'trading punches'. I don't bother with a probing jab, because this man knows nothing of physical pain. I lead with a tight left hook upon his jaw, the ballerina pulsation of my legs contributes to the distribution of force. He drops promptly. I quickly depart around the corner of Gray's Papaya...